Typecast (Single Version)

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Joe tha Stick-Man

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Y'all tryna typecast me?
These muthafuckas think I'm here to write pastiche
But real brothas let me vocalize my peace
So everybody put yo hands up
Put yo hands up
Shut yo ass up
Put yo hands up
Put yo hands

Hit em with that one-two
Rappin in three:four
My ass been depressed, Eeyore
But I'm back to manifest Dior
When I was a kid
Thought I wasn't shit
Always was a diss
On my ability
Innocent
But in genetic
Prison, synonym
For fragility
Inner child rebel soldier
Been minin for closure
And watchin the throne
Ima invade like Shan Yu
Payin my dues
Since K. Dot was takin control
Not a Dwayne Johnson
But a Day-Lewis
Yo, it's nighttime
And I came lootin
Payin homage
While I blaze new ones
Ima light mine
And my flames ruthless

Y'all tryna typecast me?
These muthafuckas think I'm here to write pastiche
But real brothas let me vocalize my peace
So everybody put yo hands up
Put yo hands up
Shut yo ass up
Put yo hands up
Put yo hands

Want blood? I already bled
They put cripples in a box like we already dead
No insurance if we cook up any bread
No endurance, so we look like penny dread
Walkin off a hemorrhage
Cast outta heaven now I'm devilish
Knockin for the severance
Dead man walkin, I'm a revenant
Not here to motivate the able-bodied
Be your circus or your safe hobby
I'm too qualified to sit down
They can only pimp butterflies that they pin down
Ill-advised to be lockin me in
Still I rise, a walkin phoenix
Other jokers can choke on my semen
That's what you sowed, so go on and reap it, bitch

Y'all tryna typecast me?
These muthafuckas think I'm here to write pastiche
But real brothas let me vocalize my peace
So everybody put yo hands up
Put yo hands up
Shut yo ass up
Put yo hands up
Put yo hands

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